Natural Science
by The Timelord Who Knocks
Summary: A Tenth Doctor story. After the events of the Titanic, The Doctor has allowed two years to pass and has reunited with Martha yet again- because someone had left Heisenberg crystal meth in his TARDIS, with a cryptic message. This draws them to New Mexico, where they team up with Walter White and Jesse Pinkman, and unravel a horrifying plot that could provoke an Orwellian regime.


CHAPTER 1

Martha Jones had just clocked out for the night, and was on her way to the locker room, making her way through the darkly-lit corridor of the hospital, when she had heard the sound of frantic running. As she turned and looked behind her, she saw James Felder, one of her co-workers, running towards her.

"MARTHA!" he called.

James was 26 years old, was 6'3 tall, and sported slicked back black hair which made his pale skin stand out, and a muscular build, wearing a grey t-shirt and black jeans. As he ran towards, Martha had noticed he had a piece of paper in his hand with very faintly visible writing under the spaced-out ceiling lights above them.

"It's 9:03 PM on a Friday night, what could you possibly be in a hurry to do?", she asked.

"Martha, I just got a call from a Doctor-"

"My Doctor?" she interrupted.

"He says it's urgent. He sounds pretty young for a doctor. Are you sure he isn't a nurse just like you?"

He handed her the folded piece of paper. Before she even opened the paper, she knew who it was: The Doctor. They hadn't seen each other for quite some time- two years, to be exact. After all those adventures they'd taken together, Martha Jones was unsure if he'd see her again, and as soon as she unfolded the note, she was quite taken aback by what it read:

10 PM- LONDON EYE - BLUE BOX

Martha was stunned. It seemed like a whole minute that she had been staring at the paper. James was wondering if perhaps, she was being called by someone who had been stalking her.

"What is it, Martha?" he asked, his voice sounding frail.

"Important."

Martha rushed off to her locker, changed into street clothes, and made her way downstairs to run to the nearest tube station. It was cold outside- the beginning of March in London, yet Martha could take the cold. She wore her usual red leather jacket, which was light, but thick enough to keep her warm. Yet, the cold was the last thing on her mind. She had a number of tube lines to change, and had just made it to The London Eye in the nick of time.

When she arrived, she could see the TARDIS from a distance- lit-up banner. Light beaming through the windows. It had been ages since she'd seen this sight. It immediately hit her that she was finally about to go on more adventures- the nostalgia of two years ago flashed through her mind at lightning speed. Without hesitation, she ran towards the big blue box in excitement. She immediately opened the doors, and saw it all again, for the first time in ages. The dome-like ceiling of the TARDIS. The console, with near-blinding green-light shining in her eyes. The weird leaning pillars all around the TARDIS. but the sight she had anticipated most: the tall, handsome and skinny man, in that familiar messy brown suit, with his back towards her, head drooped down. As he raised his head, the messy hair on top came to light, and the man stood like a statue, remaining completely still for what seemed like an eternity.

"It's been too long," said the man, his London accent reverberating through the TARDIS.

Martha's heart was beating rapidly. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, let alone she couldn't believe The Doctor wanted her to go on another adventure with her again.

"Doctor..." she hesitated. "You're not wrong."

The man turned around slowly, and revealed himself to be that beautiful, weird man who called himself a Doctor. His handsome face had started to form a smile, before they both ran towards each other, and gave each other a giant hug.

"Oh, Doctor, I thought I'd never see you again!" she piped up.

The Doctor led her by the hand to the TARDIS console.

"Well, I often like to think I'd see my friends again," he started. "You know, you go in adventures with someone, get stuck in a period of time for how many years, and then suddenly you return them to the time they came... and to most, it's almost like nothing happened."

The Doctor was positive that Martha was the right person for the adventure at hand. It was almost as if the TARDIS was telling him that only Martha could face the horrible events about to happen- but neither knew just how it would turn out. And the suspense was killing The Doctor, as if he knew how it would end, without knowing just what was going to happen.

"Besides," he continued. "What have you been doing in that amount of time, anyway?"

Martha chortled.

"Now why would you want to know about my boring life?"

"Boring?" The Doctor seemed shocked. "Someone as interesting as you wouldn't come off as boring... at least to me."

"Well, one of us isn't "904 years old."

The Doctor smiled, and started up the TARDIS, allowing it to dissolve into the stream of time and space. "Ah, I see your sense of sass hasn't gone away."

"Yeah, but it has to happen when I get stuck in the 1960s because of stone angels with the ability to transport people back in time. Besides, why me, of all people?"

"Because, you're the only person I seem to remember who would know a thing or two about chemistry."

Martha was quite taken aback at the word he had just hit her with: chemistry. Of all the adventures he had taken her on, none had required her to use her chemistry skills, and this already seemed like it was going to be something of a challenge for her. "Chemistry?" she asked in a bewildered tone of voice. The Doctor reached into his blazer pocket, and took out a dime bag full of blue crystals, with a drawing of a man in a trilby, wayfarers and a mustache that draped his upper lip.

"Methamphetamine."

Martha's heart plummeted at the word. For a second, she began to wonder if The Doctor had lost his mind. "You're not telling me-"

"Don't take this the wrong way," The Doctor interrupted. "I'm not trying to imply that I use this garbage. I clearly have much better things to do with my time, and I do want to live for at least another thousand years."

The Doctor walked over to the video screen, turned it on, and craned it in Martha's direction. The screen showed a still image of a young man, who seems as if he was just barely five foot five, wearing typical "hood rat" clothing, with a number of American dollar bills rolled up in his right hand, and bags of blue crystal meth in the left. He then handed her the dime bag. "Take a look on the back of the bag. Does that name ring a bell?" She looked at the back if the bag, to find "HEISENBERG" crudely written in sharpie.

"Heisenberg... wait, I've read about that in the paper."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "People still read the paper?!"

"It's impossible to pick up a copy of The Daily Mirror without finding a single article about it. Some meth lord who works with a partner and lives in Albuquerque."

"Albuquerque?" asked The Doctor, his tone of voice sounding glum. "I haven't been to The States in two years, and that was back in the 1930s."

The Doctor whipped out his eyeglasses from the breast pocket of his blazer, and hooked a magnifying monocle that was resting on the console to the left lens. He grabbed the methamphetamine from Martha's hand and held the dime bag up to the monocle. As he looked on the bag, he noticed a message, crudely etched into the bag with what had to have been a heat needle, as parts of the plastic were gone, edged blackened.

**KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN, DOCTOR.**

"Keep your eye-"

As he looked closer at the message, he noticed the intitials: "G. Fring."

Martha was growing increasingly bewildered as to why The Doctor was focusing so much attention to detail on such a small detail.

"What does it say?" she asked.

The Doctor whipped off his glasses, and placed them on the console. "G Fring."

"Fring," Martha pondered. "I've read that name in the newspaper."

The Doctor looked at her, as if she had asked him the square root of an impossibly large number. "Where?"

"Los Pollos Hermanos. Ever heard of it?"

The Doctor stood there, blankly, refusing to even move a facial muscle. "Fring is a Spanish name. What do chicken brothers have to do with blue meth?"


End file.
